Four

Over the course of the next few months, Haven fell into a routine. She loved working in the kitchen and gradually started taking over the majority of the morning kitchen duties until she was in charge of the entire morning shift and doing most of the breakfast herself and at a much faster pace than the rest of the staff combined. She found a routine that worked for her and liked to challenge herself by moving faster and faster.

It almost turned into a game.

She worked diligently, never slacking off, and always going the extra mile when given the chance. Anytime Sarah needed her to take an extra shirt or extra help, Haven leapt at the chance. She didn't want Sarah to regret hiring her. She needed to prove she was useful.

Even though Sarah paid her well and let her eat at no charge, Haven set all the money she earned aside and refused to touch it unless absolutely necessary. She stretched the toiletries she stole as long as possible, finally breaking down and buying the least expensive and most necessary things she could find when the time came.

There was something about Sarah that Haven felt drawn towards. Maybe it was the way she spoke or carried herself—the way she talked to and interacted with Haven as though she were a person and not an object. More than one occasion found the two of them working together in the kitchen and Haven loved watching and learning from her. Sarah tried several times to get Haven to go to church with her, but Haven couldn't go out in public. People couldn't see her—word might get back to Damien.

Besides, as she grew bigger, someone was bound to notice she was pregnant. Fortunately, the apron she wore in the kitchen was way too big and easily hid her ever growing stomach.

One morning, as she was kneading biscuit dough, she felt a gradual, mild tightening in her stomach. She immediately tensed, holding the edge of the counter and holding her breath until it passed.

"You okay?" Sarah asked as she walked in.

Haven nodded, jumping slightly. "Yeah, I just... stubbed my toe." She breathed a sigh of relief when Sarah smiled and turned away.

Throughout the remainder of the day, Haven tried to ignore the increase of tightenings she felt. She started to worry, wondering if something was wrong.

During lunch, when she had a few minutes to herself, Haven managed to sneak into Sarah's office and do a quick search on possible reasons for them and if that was a bad sign. She couldn't read most of the words flashing back up at her, but she managed to understand two things.

They were contractions, and it meant her baby was coming.

Haven didn't feel like eating by the time dinner rolled around, so she quietly slipped up to her room to try and get some sleep. It had been a while since she'd had a contraction, but as she changed into her warm sweatshirt she felt another tightening in her stomach.

"Okay, it's okay," Haven told herself. She blinked away the tears that immediately gathered in her eyes, her hands beginning to tremble. She stood up, resting her palms on her cheeks and trying to slow her breathing.

Scarcely thirty minutes later, after she had dozed off into a light sleep, her eyes snapped open as another cramp started. She let out a whimper, pushing herself up in the hopes of alleviating the discomfort.

Panic flashed in her mind.

"No, no, no." Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. No, not yet. It was too soon. She wasn't ready. She just needed a few more weeks—she thought she sure she had at least that much time. She didn't have any kind of plan or anything. How was she going to do this? She didn't even have a crib for her baby to sleep in!

Another contraction. Haven inhaled sharply and held her breath, waiting for it to pass and gritting her teeth. She needed to get out of here. Now. She couldn't give birth without someone hearing her, and no one could know about the baby.

Quickly untying two of her shoes, Haven stuffed the laces in her pockets and tugged her hair up into a ponytail.

Creeping through the hallway as quickly and silently as she could, she stopped. She pressed her hand on one of the walls, biting the inside of her cheek as a contraction crept up on her. Thankfully the rest of the staff was still eating dinner, Sarah included, so she wasn't overly worried about being spotted. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the reception desk before slipping quietly through the front door.

Her fear beginning to take over, Haven nervously swallowed. Additional tears sprang to her eyes. The sky had begun to darken and the air grew colder as clouds rolled in. A stifled sob escaped Haven's lips as she was forced to stop again. She pressed her hand to her mouth, desperately struggling not to cry out. She couldn't walk anymore.

Haven forced herself to keep going, wanting to get as close to the river as possible. The noise would drown out any sound the baby made.

Sinking to the ground, leaning her back up against a tree, Haven moaned. She awkwardly situated herself on the soft dirt and squeezed her eyes shut as another tear spilled onto her cheek. She rested her hand over her stomach, surprised at how hard it was. "God, please help me," Haven whispered, her voice breaking. She couldn't do this.

An image of herself being in this same situation but in Damien's horrible factory with him there hovering over her ready to kill her baby came to her mind and her stomach rolled.

Tears started to trickle down her face. Another contraction forced a low whimper from her and she couldn't stifle a sob. Her fingers dug into the moist dirt and she tried to force deep breaths into her lungs.

At the contractions break, Haven leaned forward just enough to take her sweater off and lay it flat beside her. She put the scissors and shoe laces on top, trying to think clearly and methodically. Her hands were shaking. She could feel her baby moving inside her and she couldn't help a small smile from forming on her lips.

"I'll protect you. I will," Haven whispered, her voice strained. She pressed gently against the side of her stomach, feeling something pop up against her. "It's okay… you can come… anytime you're ready."

Another dull pain in her stomach made her almost want to retract her previous statement. She inhaled sharply, groaning as she pressed her back against the trees roots. She tried to move around and shift positions, hoping to lessen some of the contractions intensity but nothing seamed to do the trick.

Breathing turned into a concentrated effort and she couldn't keep the tears from dripping down her face. She kept catching herself holding her breath, which she found made the contractions hurt all the more.

"I can do this. I can do this," Haven whispered to herself. As if in response to her small pep talk, another contraction forced her to stop. She moaned louder, which turned into a light scream. Sucking in her breath, Haven anxiously waited for it to fade. It did after a few moments, and she relaxed. She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

Two minutes later, another wave of pain hit her. This one was different. Bigger. Stronger. Haven couldn't even try to hold in her cry. She groaned through the pain, trying to gather the strength and willpower to keep a level head. It would let up in a moment.

Except it didn't. It wouldn't stop. It got stronger, tighter. Haven's heart was in her throat.

She needed to push. She needed to. Now. She moaned again, sobbing, as she clenched her teeth together. The contractions seemed to last for minutes on end. They weren't short anymore and with the climax of each and every one, Haven pushed as hard as she could against the mounting pressure.

She continued on through the same, long, painful routine for what felt like hours. Her strength began to fade at an alarming pace and she was afraid she'd black out. At one point, a steady stream of rain started to fall. The tree branches shielded her relatively well, but they couldn't keep all the water from splattering onto hair and clothes.

Haven started to worry something was wrong with her baby and it would never end. This was how she would die. And her baby would die too.

No.

Determination began to replace her fear. She was not going to die. Neither was her baby. Her precious, sweet, innocent little baby.

Shaking, almost nervously, she forced herself to feel for it. She could feel the head. It was completely out. One of the baby's shoulders was too, but something was wrapped around it.

Haven had to be almost there, right? Grunting, she pushed once again; as hard and as long as she could. Struggling to sit a little more upright, she grasped her baby under the arms and pulled it the rest of the way out, unwrapping the umbilical cord that had wrapped around one of the shoulders. All her pain vanished like a candle in the wind.

Gasping, Haven fall back against the ground as she held her baby against her chest. With a pained whimper, Haven turned her over and patted her back, clearing the fluid in her nose and mouth. She used the end of her shirt and wiped the infant's face off, clearing away the blood and little bit of dirt. A cross between relief and happiness crossed Haven's face when she realized the warm bundle in her arms was a girl. A little girl. A daughter, she had a daughter.

"Come on, baby girl, start crying," Haven begged, near tears herself. She tried lightly smacking her leg, but it didn't do anything so she smacked her a little harder.

The tiny, bloody baby started crying, piercing the night air.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Haven sobbed.

For several minutes, she was too exhausted to move. All she could do was lie down and keep the tiny, wet, wiggling creature wrapped in her arms, panting and trying to catch her breath. Rain continued to pour around her, offering sweet relief from the sweat trickling down her face.

Her baby kept crying.

Haven fumbled in the darkness as she securely tied off her umbilical chord with the two shoe laces, leaving an inch or so between them. Using the scissors, she snipped the cord. She inched toward the river, splashing up small handfuls of water to try and wash some of the blood off her baby and then awkwardly wrapped her up in the sweatshirt.

Finally, because of the continuing dropping temperature, Haven realized she needed to get up and go someplace warm.

But where could she go? She had very little money saved up, not nearly enough for a private room in a hotel away from the inn. Besides, where would she go that no one would notice a bloody young girl, carrying a naked, also bloody, baby wrapped in a sweater?